I look over at Ben and close my eyes. “God, please let this boy grow up strong and healthy,” I whisper quietly.

His monitor suddenly starts beeping wildly, jolting me from my silent prayer. Cassie and I both rush to the incubator and open it. His color is grayish and his heart rate is dangerously low. The monitors go off again, indicating something is wrong with his tube. The brand new tube that I just inserted. I feel faint and desperate.

Cassie puts her stethoscope to his chest and gasps. “His lungs are filled with fluid.” She begins working on him as Becky runs into the hallway to alert Dr. Hagan.

Several other nurses rush in with the doctor and I back away into the corner. I’m frozen as I watch them work on Ben. Cassie looks over at me, shaking her head. Her eyes are frantic and questioning. I look out of the blinds and see Olivia sitting up, drinking juice that one of the nurses brought to her. The Marines are still there, trying to give her space but also to comfort her. I look back toward Ben and I can’t see him. He’s surrounded by doctors and nurses.

Cassie’s eyes meet mine and I know.

We’re losing him.

I’M SEATED NEXT TO CASSIE inside the hospital administrator’s office.

I’m numb.

“Miss Weston, can you answer me?” Jim Burke, Chief of the NICU, asks again.

“I don’t know how it happened,” I say quietly. It’s my fault.

“You don’t know how the feeding tube was placed in his lungs instead of his stomach?” he asks accusingly.

“No, sir. I listened to his chest. I heard it in his stomach. I didn’t think it was in his lungs.” Cassie grabs my hand and squeezes. Did I actually listen to his chest? I don’t even remember. Holy fuck.

I’ve inserted hundreds of feeding tubes in babies tinier than Ben. Hundreds of tubes placed in the exact spot they were supposed to be placed. All the right way, never in their precious lungs. Lungs so tiny and desperate for air. Lungs trying to work hard to keep Ben alive.

Ben.

“Miss Weston, we’re placing you on administrative leave until we can conduct a full investigation into this situation.”

I inhale as Jim stands up behind his desk.

“But…” I say and break down. “I didn’t mean to, Jim. I did everything right. I don’t know what happened. Oh my God.”

It begins to sink in exactly what I’ve done. Cassie grabs me by my shoulders and guides me out of the room.

“Cassie.” I sob and fall to my knees in the hallway.

It’s my fault.

It’s my fault.

IT’S MY FAULT.

“Hush, Sam.” She sinks to the floor next to me and throws her arms around me. “Don’t say anything, okay?” She begs me not to confess. Not to tell her what I did.

“Whatever happened was an accident. Do you understand? The NICU was a zoo today. So much was going on. Too much was going on.” She rubs my arms, pulling me against her. I can hear the regret in her voice. She was assigned to Ben today, and it was her feeding tube that I inserted wrong. Her guilt is tangible, but not as thick as mine.

An accident? It was neglectful. Sloppy. Wrong.

“I killed him,” I whisper into her shoulder. “I killed Ben.”

Garrett

Present

Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

Age 26

HEATH MOVES THROUGH MY HOUSE like he’s been here before. He finds the whiskey and two glasses and quickly pours heaping servings for the both of us. He slides one across the large island in the kitchen that I’m propped against. I drink it down in one gulp, feeling the burn of the brown liquid in my throat and into my chest. I wince as a delayed burn attacks my nose. My eyes water as I push the glass toward him. He refills it without thinking and his eyes meet mine.

“Dude, you have a kid.”

The words hang in the air between us, and I swig the second shot of whiskey.

“You don’t know that,” I say, trying to convince myself that the birth certificate isn’t real.

“And his mother is dead.” He drops his eyes and swirls his drink before sucking it back.

I slide onto the barstool and place my forehead on the cool granite. This can’t be happening.

Heath’s cell phone chimes loudly and he answers it after the first ring. “Mick,” he says, and I close my eyes, keeping my head pressed to the counter. “Right. Okay. Thanks.” He drops the phone on the counter next to my head.

“The police are finished. They gathered everything they could find. They want to talk to you, and Mick gave them your home address.”

What could they want to talk to me about?

“I don’t understand,” I mutter and slowly lift my head. “What could they want with me?”

Heath shrugs his shoulders and pours me another shot of whiskey. “That girl died. I’m sure they want to tie up any loose ends. Maybe try to figure out how you knew her and how she OD’d.”

Sadie was completely wasted. More than when I fucked her a while back. Was it nine months ago? I try to remember where we were when I met her. It was cold. And snowing. We were in Philadelphia for the first leg of our tour, and it was right after Thanksgiving last year. Holiday lights were everywhere, so it was definitely before Christmas.

Exactly nine months ago.

“Oh my God,” I murmur.

Heath stiffens in front of me, and his eyes focus over my right shoulder. “Ma’am?” he says, addressing whoever is behind me.

Peggy.

I rub my hands over my face and inhale deeply.

“Garrett?” Without turning, I can picture her confused and worried face. She and I are rarely here at the same time, but when we are, she’s like a second mother to me. She takes care of everything and adds her extra-special motherly touch. Fresh meals, clean sheets and warm smiles. I never tell her this, but being around her completely grounds me when I’m home. Something I don’t get with anyone.

“Hey, Peggy,” I say and push the empty glass from me. I’m suddenly embarrassed that I’m a little buzzed and ashamed about the birth certificate she knows nothing about.

“Is everything okay?” she asks hesitantly, and she moves to the end of the island, transferring her gaze between Heath and me.

“I should go—somewhere,” Heath says and backs away.

“No!” I say, startling all of us. His eyes widen and he shakes his head slowly. “You don’t know your way around the house.” He looks confused at my feeble attempt to keep him in the room with me and Peggy.

She tenses and reaches for my arm. Her cool hand grabs my wrist and I stiffen. “Garrett, what’s going on?” Her tone feels accusatory, and I pull my wrist from her grip.

“Nothing,” I snap. “We had some free time today, and Heath wanted to see my place.” I glare at Heath and expect him to corroborate my lies.

He turns to look out the window. “Hey, is that a pool house?” He quickly makes his way to the back door that leads to the backyard and the indoor pool at the back of my property. The door closes before I can stop him.

Peggy moves to fill the space where Heath was before. Her worried eyes find mine. “Garrett, I’ll ask you again, is everything okay?” she asks and reaches across the granite to cover my hand with hers.

“Not exactly.”

She raises her brow and squeezes my hand tightly as the front door chimes.

“I’ll get the door.” She walks toward the front of the house and turns to address me. “Are you here?” she asks, knowing that I frequently tell her to send people away.

“Yes,” I answer reluctantly. I know who’s outside my door.